


If It Were Easy, It Wouldn’t Have to Be Us

by Erufaeleth



Series: Healing scars [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:28:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29674905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erufaeleth/pseuds/Erufaeleth
Summary: Some things you can forget, even the hard ones. But sometimes, these are the little things that leave you changed for life.
Series: Healing scars [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2179359
Kudos: 4





	If It Were Easy, It Wouldn’t Have to Be Us

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second published fanfic ever, and I am still not sure what am I even doing. I just thought I would explore the theme of scars, with all the possible meanings of the word. And since I absolutely love the relationship between Aragorn and Halbarad, even though we know so little about it from the books... well, here it goes.
> 
> All rights belong to their respective owners - obviously.

I quickly bandage the wound with a piece of cloth, the way I was taught in Rivendell. I squint, eyeing it. Not too good - Master Elrond would notice at least eight different flaws in the way it was made - but hey, it is not the easiest thing ever to bandage your own right forearm.  
  
“Are you sure the blade wasn’t poisoned?” I hear a voice behind my back. I turn to him, managing a smile.  
  
“Yes, I am pretty sure. It would either hurt much worse, or not at all.”  
  
“You mean this hurts just right,” he snorts. I roll my eyes.  
  
“Halbarad, we are Rangers. It is perfectly normal that we get ourselves into this kind of situations. Life would be boring otherwise.” I hope he doesn’t notice the effort I make to keep my voice steady, or the way I am desperately trying to keep myself from making a face. But, of course, he notices that. He is Halbarad. What else did I expect?  
He looks at me with care in his eyes, and I simply know what his next words are going to be.  
  
“You are not an ordinary Ranger,” he says, confirming my thoughts. “You are the Chieftain. You should look after yourself more carefully. Or at least allow other people to look after you.”  
  
“Other people meaning you.”  
  
He nods. “If need be. But there are others, too, who would give their lives to protect you.” His grey eyes - so similar to mine - are soft, almost pleading right now, and it is not something I can bear easily. Especially not with the searing pain spreading from my right forearm. So, again, I do something I know I am going to regret later.  
“Why can’t you see that I don’t want it,” I snap at him.  
  
“Oh, I see that just fine. I just fail to see any reason beyond it,” he retorts. He knows nobody else would dare to talk to me like that. But he, well… he is Halbarad. I sigh and straighten up.  
  
“Halbarad…” I shake my head. “If I wanted to just stay safe and protected, I would have stayed in Rivendell. You know that?” He bites his lip and says nothing. I continue: “But I decided to come to the Angle, to at least see the people I was told I am part of. And then I decided to stay. To really become one of them.”  
  
“You always were one of us,” he says quietly. “It’s in your blood.”  
  
“By blood - maybe. But do you remember those first weeks after I came here? I was acting like some puffed up Elvish princeling.” I snort and meet his eyes. There is a glint of a smile there - almost more than he usually allows himself for.  
  
“Well, you might have been a little bit annoying then,” he admits.  
  
“See?” I say quickly, determined to prove my point. “I needed to really become a Ranger - not just by blood.”  
  
“And you have. There is no need to prove anything any longer.”  
  
“This is where you are wrong, cousin,” I say quietly, directing more and more of my attention to controlling my voice and my body. Now that the rush of a fight is over, I really begin to feel the pain. But I need to concentrate. I need to tell him… tell him something that deep down, he already knows. “It is not about making the Dúnedain believe me. It is… about me, really.” My voice comes out weaker than I thought it would be.  
  
There is a moment of silence lingering between us, but it is only slightly awkward.  
  
“I know,” he says finally. “I just wish you would stop risking yourself like that.”  
  
“It’s not that easy.” I look away.  
  
“I know.”  
  
He stares at me in silence for a while. Then, suddenly determined, he walks to me and touches my bandaged hand.  
  
“It’s going to leave a scar, you know.”  
  
I smile, and it has only a hint of bitterness. “All of it does.”


End file.
